


Was it worth it?

by AmberAkasha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humanity, doubts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberAkasha/pseuds/AmberAkasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in episode 4x16. </p><p>Castiel only asks Anna one question. Was it worth it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Was it worth it?

‘Anna.’ He calls. She wants to go away, she doesn’t want to answer, but then he whispers her name again, and his voice sounds so broken, so desperate. ‘Anna, please.’

She can’t deny that voice, she’s never been able to before, and she knows she _has_ to answer her brother. And so she appears, seemingly out of nowhere, but they both know better. And his eyes, his real eyes, not those of the human vessel he inhabits but his angelic eyes pierce through her, looking straight at her soul.

She trembles, avoiding his gaze, but knowing that it is an exercise in futility. He _knows_.

She can’t lie, not to him, not like she had to the hunter the night before.

Because Castiel is an angel. He _knows_.

She lowers her eyes, ashamed, unable to meet his, or to speak, or to do anything at all to break the stillness of the moment.

‘Was it worth it, Anna?’ is his only question, his voice calm and distant, otherworldly.

She tries to keep her body from shaking, because she isn’t human now, and she can just will it to stop, not like she used to. And how she missed the effortless ease with which she moves now, like she isn’t moving at all. But she can’t tell that to him. She can’t tell him she was wrong, so absolutely, fucking _wrong_.

‘I...’ she mumbles, knowing that, in the end, she is going to say it anyway, so she might as well be blunt, because she’s never been able to lie, much less to her little brother. ‘It was painful. Agony. And I’m not talking about the fall. Ripping my grace apart, it was like nothing I had felt before, I was so cold and alone and it tore through me and ate my soul and I felt I would never feel warm again. It was so quiet, so very quiet, without the others speaking in the background, just out of reach, yet near. I didn’t realize how much that meant, before. And then the air filled with my screams, and there was only pain. But I’m not talking about the fall. It was painful, but bearable. I’m talking about being human.’

She looks at her brother’s eyes, confused and saddened by her words, and she draws a long breath to try and _calm_ herself.

‘I remember how we were so often surprised, repulsed by how _easily_ humans gave into pain, how fragile they were, so easily broken. All it took for them to betray their loved ones, everything they believed in, was _a little pain_. But we don’t feel pain, Cas.’ Her voice turns mocking, sarcastic, and the remembered pain lends a cutting edge to her words. ‘Oh, we think we do, we all-mighty angels and the suffering we must endure in the battlefield, or that which some feel for how things are down there, or for our fallen brothers and sisters. But we **don’t** , Cas. We don’t feel pain. Being human is pure agony. An excruciating torture after another, and the sheer helplessness and uncertainty humans feel – all the time. There is no respite for the human body, for its mind and soul. And there’s pleasure, sure, and free will, but it’s all so terrifying, so intense and uncontrollable, it’s painful. I had never been so afraid, so miserable, so alone and lost. We _know_ we have a mission, we know of the Lord and the sins of the world below us can’t touch us. But they burn bright in human’s souls, in their very lives and hearts. And they are so miserably short, but it is so painful I often wished for death. Most humans have wished for death at least once by the time they are fourteen, Cas. How bad does it get for that?’

She turns her eyes, that had at some point during her franfic speech found her brother’s, her breath laboured. She turns away from him, and considers leaving. But she hasn’t answered her brother’s question, and so she mutters her confession, her voice ladenned with sadness, knowing that he’ll hear.

‘It wasn’t, brother. We were not made for that kind of intensity. It was beautiful, though, despite the pain; there was friendship, and love, and pleasure and taste and hell, even the sex was memorable. But it was never meant for us.’

And with that she dissapears, never looking at her brother, leaving but a soft rustling of feathers.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's all. I don't really like Anna, mainly 'cause I'm all for Destiel, and I think I kind of made her less powerful than in canon because of that. Hum...sorry?


End file.
